Authors: Maren Smith
Five more minutes…
This was insane. What if she got caught?
How could she get caught? She had the receipt right here. She had medical records and a—what was this, two purple and one white bracelet?—and two bus tickets, neither of which had a name written on them. Anyone could use these tickets to get on that bus.
Two minutes…
She was crazy.
Grabbing her purse, the contents of the manila envelope and her toiletries sack from the backseat, Chelsea locked her car and ran across the parking lot to the bus depot. She missed the first bus and barely caught the second before it pulled away from the curb.
“My ticket,” she said breathlessly, flushing furiously because she was just certain the bus driver was going to take one look at her or the ticket, shout “fraud” at the top of his lungs and maybe even call the cops.
But, he didn’t. He let her on the bus with a smile and a wave, and as the bus rumbled away from the curb, she quickly dropped into one of only two available seats. What was she doing? She felt giddy, almost sick to her stomach as she clutched her purse and that sad plastic sack to her middle. Her hands kept crinkling the edges of the manila envelope.
“First time?”
Chelsea jumped a little as a smiling blonde woman plopped down to sit beside her. “Yeah.” She hugged her few belongings a little tighter.
“All alone?” When Chelsea nodded, the blonde wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged. “That’s all right. I’ve been here before. They take such good care of you at the Castle.” She gave a soft squeal of excitement as the bus turned out of the parking lot and headed out of town. “We’re going to have so much fun!” Catching one of Chelsea’s hands, the blonde woman gave it a friendly squeeze. “I’m Selena, by the way.”
“Chelsea,” she replied, relaxing a little. “Are you here for ten days, too?”
“Nope.” Biting her bottom lip, Selena flashed a quick grin. “I’m moving in, actually. My Daddy lives here.” Bubbly excitement spilling over in giggles and bounces, Selena suddenly threw her arms around Chelsea’s shoulders and squealed, “I’m getting married! Wanna come?”
“A
lan is still under the weather,” Master Marshall said, as he tucked in the tails of his shirt and slipped into his black vest. “Someone is going to have to fill in for him at the 101 this week. Whose turn is it?”
Propped against window in the Master of the Castle’s office, Kade glanced at the other masters in the room (none of whom seemed in any hurry to volunteer themselves) and stifled a sigh. “Mine, I think.”
“You’ll do it?”
“If I have to.” Kade frowned, alternately watching as the new arrivals filed into the orientation courtyard below and Marshall dressed for another day of role-play across the room. Marshall had been running further and further behind these days. Nobody said anything about it, but everyone knew the reason why: Kaylee, Marshall’s current fascination and full-time submissive. Kade glanced at Marshall’s front vest pocket, wondering if that blasted engagement ring was, even now, tucked inside…waiting for just that right moment. He shook his head. “All you marriage-minded people…I tell you, it’s a sickness.”
“Is that a note of condescension I hear?” Standing before a full-length wall mirror, Master Marshall continued to dress, donning those last minute extravagances that put the “cap” on his costume—the crossed-canes wrist cuffs and the elegantly-engraved bowing-submissives pocket watch that he slipped into his black vest pocket. He adjusted the length of the silver chain that flashed and sparkled against the dark backdrop of his clothes and then, yes, pulled out the engagement ring to look at it before slipping it safely back into his pocket and giving it a reassuring pat. “Not everyone wants to spend their life alone.”
Kade looked at him, really looked at him. He saw the costume first—the white shirt and black trousers that were perfectly fashioned to outline the masculine breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist and hips. It took him out of the twenty-first century and turned him into a fantasy Dom, tailor-made to fit the Castle, and yet, it also reminded Kade of an organist’s monkey. They all looked like that these days. Sometimes, Kade could barely stand to look at himself in the mirror.
“So you’ve said.” Kade turned back to the window. Already, his eye began to pick out likely submissives. Mentally, he named them: Tonight…Tomorrow…Friday and Saturday came in side by side. Good lord, there were twins down there. He’d save them until Sunday, his day of rest. He smirked.
“You’ll understand when it happens to you,” Sam said from the couch, where he was flipping through the pages of a spanking magazine.
“Bite your tongue,” Kade told him, turning from the window entirely. “First Emerson, now Marshall. This used to be the ultimate bachelor pad. Not that Kaylee isn’t perfectly wonderful. And Selena…well, we all like Selena…”
That was met with a round of snorts and chuckles from the other Masters.
“Definitely condescension.” Marshall shot Jackson and Sam knowing looks, which both men echoed.
“I only mean, why tie yourself down? Why commit to night after night of ramen noodles when every morning a buffet of exotic delights comes tromping across this bridge? Look at this.” Kade ignored the indulgent chuckles behind him as he gestured to the window. He watched the women gathering in the courtyard, his experienced eye roaming over them, picking through the options—blondes, brunettes, sultry black-haired darlings who couldn’t wait to slip out of their travelling clothes and into little more than a collar and a smile. Jaded as he was, Kade wouldn’t mind helping with that. Too bad he didn’t work in Wardrobe.
“Kaylee is not endless nights of ramen noodles,” Marshall drawled.
Kade smothered a snort. “I’m sure every man in this room considers his sub to be nothing less than filet mignon.”
“I don’t like beef enough to eat it every night.” Adjusting his tie, Marshall paused to think. “Gourmet Chinese. Yes, that’s what she is. A little bit of sweet and sour, a little bit of won ton, General Tao, sesame and chicken.” Marshall turned around, grinning. “And a few hours later, I’m hungry enough to dine all over again.”
Barking laughter, Sam shook his head and turned another page.
“Come on, be honest,” Marshall told him as he fixed his collar. “What’s Hannah?”
“I’m a simple man,” Sam said. “Grilled cheese—lightly toasted and melting inside just waiting for me to turn up the heat.”
“Seafood alfredo,” Jackson said without being asked. Feet kicked up on the coffee table, he lay back in the center of the couch, head resting on the back, eyes closed and arms folded across his broad chest. “Good old-fashioned comfort food. Best when served hot. Craved on damned near a daily basis.” He grinned. “Yeah. Sara’s definitely my kind of alfredo.”
“What about you, Bill?” Marshall asked, turning to Emerson, the master of the Castle
schoolgirls. “What’s Selena?”
“Crazy,” Bill shot back, and everyone laughed.
“She’s not the only one.” Kade shook his head at them.
“Don’t get too cocky,” Sam told him, kicking up his feet next to Jackson. Between the two of them, they took up the entire couch. “You know what they say… There’s someone for everyone.”
Perusing the bookcase on the other side of the room, Parker covered his eyes. “Oh God, don’t tell him that.”
“Men weren’t made to stay bachelors,” Marshall drawled.
“You’re going to have him hyperventilating in a paper bag any second now.”
“Ha
-ha,” Kade deadpanned, glaring at Parker. “I don’t panic over women.”
“No,” Jackson cracked an eye long enough to shoot him a knowing look. “You just bag ‘em, tag ‘em and release them back into the wild.”
“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful. You should be grateful. If not for me, we’d still be driving to town for our condoms instead of having them delivered right to the door. We even get a retail discount now. No, no. Hold your applause. You’re welcome.”
Jackson snorted, shaking his head. “You don’t even see what’s wrong with that, do you?”
“Unless you’re making water balloon bombs out of them, there’s nothing wrong with going through a lot of condoms.” Kade turned back to the room when both Marshall and Sam joined Jackson in shaking their heads. “I’m serious. We had a good thing going and, forgive me for pointing out the obvious, Marshall, but if you give Kaylee that ring you’ve been hiding in your pocket for that last three months, then you’re going to ruin it further. Kaylee is a delightful and, purportedly, delicious creature, but why marry her? You’ve already been a bad influence on Bill…Mark my words, this is the beginning of a major domino effect. Who’s going to fall next? Parker? Jackson? Sam, you’ve held out strong against Hannah’s lovely charms for four years now. You’re probably safe enou—”
“Hannah and I eloped four months after she moved in with me,” Sam interrupted without looking up from his article.
Everyone looked at him, including Marshall. “You never told me that. You never said a word.”
On the couch, even Jackson opened his eyes. “What’d you do, go to Vegas?”
“County courthouse.”
“I was going to make you my best man,” Marshall said. “We’ve been friends for years. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. My personal life is my own, I guess. Hannah needed the stability and reassurance of knowing exactly where she stood with me, and I found myself less and less inclined to share her with others.”
“Neither one of you wears a ring,” Jackson noted.
Sam grinned and finally looked up. “Hannah wears my collar around her neck and my ring in her clit hood. I made the hole myself…at her request.”
They all blinked at him. “Where do you wear hers?” Marshall asked.
Sam’s smile turned decidedly toothy. “None of your business.”
Parker coughed a soft laugh. So did Emerson, who covered his eyes and shook his head. “I’ll be all day with that image in my head.
Thanks, buddy. Thanks a lot.”
Kade wasn’t so easily distracted. “You were the first to fall, so this is your fault.”
“Guilty,” Sam said, looking anything but.
“You didn’t have to marry her to keep her safe from other Doms.” Kade spread his arms, encompassing the other masters. “We’d have watched out for her. There isn’t a person in this room—for that matter, in
all the Castle—who hasn’t gone out of his way to keep Hannah—Kaylee, Sinclair, Sara, all of them—safe. Ha!” He laughed, pressing his hand over his heart as if wounded. “Upon occasion, some have even gone to great lengths to keep them safe from me!”
“Ha,” Jackson snapped back. “As if any of them would have you.”
Though said off-hand, Kade wasn’t fooled. Anything bearing even the smallest potential of upsetting Sara, Jackson’s once badly-wounded submissive, made the Castle’s Chief of Security bristle. And anything that bristled Jackson made it mighty difficult for Kade to ignore.
“Only because they’ve never had me.” He pretended not to notice the sour glance several masters, including Marshall, tossed him. “Who knows? Perhaps if I had been the first to rescue Sara from the fire, things would have turned out differently between us. I’ve always been partial to petite blondes with perfect breasts.”
Jackson was glaring at him openly now, the fingers of one hand beginning to curl into a fist.
“Then again,” Kade pressed, “more than anyone else in this room, the two of you have been acting awfully married. I wonder…where on Sara’s lovely, luscious little body have you hidden your ring?”
Taking his feet off the coffee table, Jackson eased his massive body upright. “If I have to come over there, I’m going to snap you like a pencil.”
Kade wasn’t intimidated. “I may have to go—” He wiggled his fingers. “—
exploring.”
Jackson came around the coffee table. “Do that again. I fucking dare you.”
“All right, all right,” Marshall interrupted. “We have a big weekend ahead of us, a full guest list, wedding tomorrow, a masquerade this weekend and we don’t need any more drama then what we’re already slated to field. Instead of baiting each other or harping on our sad, lonely, disgustingly shallow—” Smirking, Kade took a bow. “—resident Lothario, let’s turn our attention to matters of more importance. Our dear Bill has recently wed his long-distance sweetheart, Selena. They have asked for a commitment ceremony to celebrate the BDSM aspect of their marriage, which will take place tomorrow, and we still have a business to run.”
“At least we won’t have to babysit the bride,” Jackson said, grudgingly returning to his seat.
Several men chuckled, and then again when Marshall added, “Yes, we do.” Pinning on his cuffs, he turned away from the mirror. “This is Selena, after all. She’ll likely spend most of her time in Master Emerson’s classroom, but when she isn’t, Kaylee has promised to keep her occupied and out of trouble. I know, I know.” He offered up his hands in surrender when Sam laughed. “It’s Mischief leading Mayhem with those two. I’m absolutely certain they’ll find some way to drive us all crazy before the sun sets.”
Master Emerson raised his hand. “My apartment is already fully stocked with fresh switches—which Selena hates, by the way. So she’s sure to be on her best behavior for at least fifteen minutes after every spanking. Yeah,” he added, when Sam laughed at him now too. “Wishful thinking. I know. But as soon as she gets here, I’m going to lay down the law. She’ll be good. I promise.”
Jackson snorted.
“Right,” Marshall agreed. “Good luck with that.”
“It won’t happen,” Kade said.
“Anyone who has ever met the bride already knows that.”
“No, I mean, he’s already too late.” Once more gazing out the window, Kade propped his shoulder against the sill, angling to get a clearer look at the object of their amusement, standing at the admission table below. “She’s checking in for orientation now.”
Jackson groaned. “I can feel her bouncy, unending enthusiasm from here.”
“So can I,” Parker chuckled. “I’m already exhausted.”
The other men laughed, even Emerson, who nodded. “She’s a firecracker,” he agreed without apology.
Kade cracked another smile, but something had caught his eye. Not Selena. Regardless of his teasing and womanizing reputation, he wasn’t a man who made friends easily and he did consider the men in this room to be his friends. He would never jeopardize that. Never, and yet…who was that leggy, little redhead standing in line at the admission tables next to Selena? Well…“little” was a relative term. Even from here, he could see the redhead was tall. Maybe not Mrs. Hardwick (the mistress who ruled over daily orientation and co-managed the Little Maids along with Grimsley, the “butler”) tall, but definitely the kind that came with legs that—clad in appropriate Castle attire, or perhaps even divested of them—went all the way up. Her breasts were pert, mouth-watering handfuls and her strawberry-colored hair flowed down her back like a long, straight ribbon, shining in the sunlight.
He loved red hair. Red hair meant pretty pink nipples and soft pale skin that would show every loving mark he put on her. He wondered what color her eyes were: cloudless sky-blue? Slate gray? Green, maybe? He wondered if she had freckles. Little pink or brown spots that would beg to be followed by kisses, nibbled, suckled and explored.
That mental image held him so entranced that he didn’t realize Marshall was now standing right behind him until he reached past Kade’s shoulder to part the curtains a little wider.